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Man was made in our image.
With innocent eyes that sought lights embrace.
And nestled in the arms of darkness.
An empty abyss who couldn't help but stare back.

Man cried till he was content.
And his heart did grow through the suffering.
And he came to know happiness as well as sadness.
But his eyes, they spoke with love.

Man walked his path under a forceful guidance.
And he remained ignorant to the suffering of his bearers.
Fighting ensued as man found comfort under the many stars.
In the field, he fought alone against the sun and the moon, and he lost.

Rage begat man as he learned togetherness and separation.
The beautiful flowers flourished, and he felt himself no more than a lone dried ****.
So, he cut those flowers and boiled them to see how they taste.
Now, only a desert remained as man boiled each oasis.

Man ate and hunted every animal.
He used the streets built by others and ate the meals he begged for.
This lone warrior stared back into the abyss and saw light within himself.
The strongest man he knew was his darkness alone, and so fought him and lost again.

Man could no longer force his guidance on the world so for the first time, his angry heart steadied and he listened.
And man looked back to the loved ones who perished behind him and cried till he was content.
He slowly memorized each grain of dust that made up every little thing. Starting over again and again.
Eventually, his heart strengthened and pulled him to the shores of Nibana. And he was alone. And he was satisfied.

On this day, man closed his eyes and writ this poem.
A poem made only with his heart that he could never have envisioned with his meager skill.
But his heart that knew darkness, its light is refined and built up a little each day.
And his rest is well-deserved.

Even if the reason he's alive, is safe and satisfied with another man. For dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.
Just a story I thought of when I thought of a girl named Latisha. My work is continuing well. As always, my choices are my own. Even if they seem a bit odd.
The sun rose out among verdant still hills.
High peaks, forests and earth stole their eyes away from this charade.
Strands of light refuse to illuminate me.
As the the play proceeds with divine authority.

Each bird is standing on its feet and spreading its wings.
Tigers brandish guns at their young, unaware of the anguish hungrily stalking behind.
And the men with hearts of black gold walk away with their heads down.
As we are all eaten away by ignorance.

The hands of fate stitch together a torn garment of time.
Embroidering its history of suffering.
But the answer to your questions won't be found in gods clothes.
There's a lot more suffocating water in this ocean than treasure.

But your heart withstood the weight of it all.
And its callouses grew over their shadows left behind.
But when it beats, I can still hear the screams
Of your abandonment.
Who knows. Probably just tryna write fancy.
It's a cliche to stare from the window, but I do.
Slipping through time without thinking.
The flowers are indulging the ground with life.

I am not so candid as to tell you why.
Voices ruminate outside my prison.
I wouldn't be so sad if this was the end.

I'm not calling to say I love you or I've moved on.
But that when the knife in my heart twists.
The pain doesn't really move me as it used to.

I might give up, I might give in.
But the calls from another world, they beckon me to"Keep smiling".
Perhaps I never should have reached out.

So here I write and release to the world.
So that the death grip on my soul will be just released a little.
As this poem has seemed to do.

I realize this isn't the ideal scenario, being so torn up about nothing it doesn't reflect on me quite well. But time will march on without me. And the stars will reflect our pie in the sky hopes and dreams. And the knife will stay in my heart to remind me of you and your betrayal all those years ago. And the poison will reach the earth I walk on. And all those nice kind loving things you say, the beauty of it all will one day be lost on me. But for today, thank you for reminding me that I can resist the pain that's meant to make me human. Until the dawn comes, I beg you to sleep. And not look at my face.

Please, don't see my tears. They are only per-cursors to that knife being twisted again. And yet, part of me desires it be twisted again so that I may see just how long it will take before I destroy this thing called "Friendship."
It is as it is written. Irritating to write it in tho, poems really shouldn't be written selfishly. It's just an experiment.
I had faith in your shame.
I had faith that you would not come back.
At the very least, when you broke my heart forever.
I believed that not love, but shame would keep you from returning.

I had faith in your violence.
I had faith that you could not apologize.
At the very least, when you hurled your abuse at my fragile ego.
I believed that not love, but the violence of your judgment would keep you from returning.

I had faith in your love.
I had faith that you would not ever confront me.
At the very least, when you choose him over me.
I believed not in your courage, but your love for him that would keep you from returning.

I had faith in your pain.
I had faith that you would try to talk to me.
At the very least, when I destroyed your heart for another.
I believed not in your pride, but the pain you continue to feel would scare you away from me forever.

I had faith in your fear.
I had faith that you would erase every trace of your existence.
At the very least, when you saw my months of mental anguish at your absence in those letters.
I believed not in your good judgment, but your fear of my "instability" that would close the book on you forever.

I had faith in your cheating.
I had faith that you would absolve yourself of all responsibility.
At the very least, when you eloped with your husband.
I believed not in your vows to each other, but avoiding a difficult conversation with me would let you be silent forever.

I had faith in your respect.
I had faith that you would believe in me to find someone better?
At the very least, when I told you we shouldn't be together.
I believed not in your tears, but your belief that I would do better would keep you from ever speaking another word.

I had faith in your insecurity.
I had faith that when you found out it was your fault, that was it.
At the very least, when you cried and cried after it was all over.
I believed that you felt you had to go. Knowing, that you could never return to what we had. After you broke it.

I have faith in my letters.
I have faith that you will never talk to me again.
At the very least, when you saw them you did not stir from your place far away from me.
I believed that my words would rouse the truth of why you left. Your silence only confirms that my faith was well placed.
I don't have faith in goodbye because I've never said it. I'm not so dramatic as to abandon or betray the one he loves like all these people have done to me. I understand why it happens, and I hate it but goodbye is not why these people are gone.
This isn't a poem that I could write easily.

It is but a reply to a kind girl I cherish. That I hope she never reads.

On awful days like this I think of you, though I shouldn't.
The spiteful guy who knows you betrayed him.
Should the book of life be written, I would argue it's pages to say you betrayed me.
Lo, the poison spreads.

I can't help that you are human.
That you were broken over and over again by your abusers.
And hate these arms of mine for being one of them.
Lo, the toxin wears.

I am a tired man who curses those to whom he protects.
When you smiled at me, I felt truly alive!
I have gone too long without that smile. It is kept from me and these loving eyes.

Because these eyes are killers eyes.
This heart, will rise again.
And my soul will corrupt.
The price I pay for being a big fat liar.

And the pain I feel for loving someone for whom it is impossible to love. One disgusting hopeless narcissist to another.

---------Thoughtful Strangers letter---------

If we meet, I'd like to watch the sunset with you. And call you a pathetic woman with no talent whatsoever at finding happiness. And a ***** who is so predictable, I could tell her future looking into dog **** rather than a crystal ball. That I actually wanted you to save me from the disgusting people I called family. And that unlike you, I was enlightened to understand just why I have to think through everything in front of me. I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't do drugs like you because I don't have the luxury of serving my own purpose of self-satisfaction because this body won't let me. That you broke my heart when these, my only pair of eyes made you feel afraid when I looked at you in my most loving gaze.

Now I look into the mirror and see something disgusting that truly should not exist. So before I die, never feeling the touch of one who loves me. I hope you suffer. Just like I always knew you would and wanted you to. I hope you die ******. That horrible future I see is a lot kinder than the hell I've been confined too. Trapped like a cockroach. With a beautiful heart that poisons everything it touches. And hurts every time it remembers that he has no friends.

I can only hope it's easier not to care.
It always seemed counter intuitive to me. Why release my inner thoughts to the world, why seek people to read it when I don't want anyone to ever talk about it? The answer is sucky. It's because I believe there is a god who will answer my prayers to make this all go away. And I hope someone, anyone will want to be friends with me after reading this trash.
Make way for the bees.
There's too much to say.
Love once and forever.
Bleed out the day.

More happy than sense.
The future divide.
Between a man and his friends.
For him and his bride.

Low cost, low manage.
And family safe.
Party and make merry.
For our new home today.

Couples of fame.
Lovers of vice.
Homes that were broken, parents that fight.

But no bad ending and no fallout.
No lovers spat, no bad flake out.
It could be true love or it could not be.
But I've been left here for an eternity.

And so, she pervades and steals my friends.
And my disgust to her attends.
Blame me, or their crossed stars above.
But I blame the forgetful feeling known as love.
Not too bad. Not too BAD. Another rhymy one. if you like it, cool. If not, well sorry it isn't better.
Little words.
Crowded breaths.
See my hair?
Compliments.
Stoke the fire.
Rest the eyes.
Take the cake.
Eat it twice.
Lord the night.
Drown the years.
Forever more.
Forever near.
No trifle here.
But peace become.
Sat on here.
On our thumbs
Not much to say,
Not much to do.
Tv's how he spends his too.
Insecure.
Work to ends.
Lives a trough.
Drink the *****.
Kids can sleep.
Dogs can lie.
Set the table.
Dress to style.
Out we go,
Once again.
To find a man,
Worth his bread.
I'm not sure about this but, I like it. I hope you do to. Made in a style like an awkward person who liked a different poem.
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